


Window Seat

by samwisewinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bus, Destiel - Freeform, Drabble, Fighting, Job Interview, M/M, One Shot, idk - Freeform, stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 02:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15184295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samwisewinchester/pseuds/samwisewinchester
Summary: Castiel has to take a public bus to a very important job interview, but his trip is disturbed when he gets into a silent fight over keeping the bus window open/closed with the stranger sitting behind him





	Window Seat

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Sorry if you got a notification from me and thought maybe I had posted something for the next part of SfL...because this is definitely not that. XD  
> I was inspired by that video that's been going around of the people fighting over the bus window, and I wrote this little drabble-ish-thing on a whim in about 20 minutes! Anyway, hope you read it and enjoy it! Oh, and sorry for grammar stuff, because as I said, I wrote it in 20 minutes. No time for editing or proofreading, amiright?

Castiel groaned in dismay as he surveyed the public transit that was about to deliver him to the most important interview of his adult life. Of course, today of all days, his car was in the shop. Today, the day he needed to make the best first impression possible. He NEEDED today to go perfectly, and it was already off to a bad start. He sighed as he grabbed his suitcase, gathered his resolve, and climbed into the ratty city bus. He took the first open seat available and grimaced as he sat down, knowing any number of disgusting substances could be transferring from the grimy seat to his freshly-cleaned suit.  
He quietly hummed to himself as the bus filled up, and he absent-mindedly noticed another passenger had claimed the seat directly behind him. Mostly he was worrying about the interview, though. It needed to go well. REALLY well. His whole career--hell, his whole life was riding on it.  
Only a couple minutes after Castiel had boarded, the bus doors slammed shut, and the sputtering of the diesel engine kicking into action and shoving the rickety bus into motion. Almost immediately, Castiel felt a breeze hitting his face. Under normal circumstances, a breeze would be fine, but it was not a normal day. His hair. His precious, carefully-styled hair was getting blown around haphazardly by the wind. It was being ruined! He scanned the bus for open windows, but it looked like the main source of aerial disturbance was simply from the window located directly above his own seat. He sighed in relief to see it would be easy to fix the problem, reached up, and deftly slid the window closed. Crisis averted.  
Or not.  
Castiel's peripheral vision was suddenly disturbed by, upon closer inspection (slight turning of the head and moving of the eyes), what could only be described as the hand of Satan himself.  
Okay, maybe that was a little melodramatic, but still, Castiel was moderately disturbed by the hand and more disturbed by the fact that it was moving to open up the window he had just shut.  
'What the...?' Castiel didn't want to call the guy out. He probably didn't even notice that Castiel had closed it in the first place. It was probably all just a misunderstanding. Yeah, of course. So, like a normal human, Castiel reached back up and carefully slid the window back shut again.  
And the Hand was back, opening the window, letting in all the stupid wind. Again. Castiel furrowed his brow, not necessarily angry, but pretty miffed. He obviously didn't want the window open, so what the problem of the guy behind him? It wasn't like it was even the window above that guy's seat; it was the window above Castiel, and he was full rights regarding the overt nature of said window. Or at least, he hoped he did. Maybe he shouldn't take it to court, just to be safe.  
And yet, the Hand came back, and if it was possible to read body language off of a single hand, then Castiel was positive the man behind him was getting just as miffed as he was about the whole window situation.  
'Well, it serves him right; his future doesn't depend on this window being closed...' Castiel thought to himself as his slammed the window back shut, this time keeping his hand pressed firmly to the glass to keep it closed. When the Hand came back that time, he was prepared, and he fought back against the actually ridiculously strong force pushing the window towards the open position. He put up the best fight he could, but eventually, the Hand won out, and the window slid wide open to let the air flow yet again.  
Castiel rubbed his eyes. This was not what he needed today. But he wouldn't give up. Having that window shut was his God-given right, and he was damned if he was going to let some random stranger take it away from him.  
So he reached back up and closed it.  
And the Hand opened it.  
And he closed it.  
And the Hand opened it.  
After a couple more rounds, neither man was letting go of the glass, and every time one pushed, the other pushed back twice as hard. The battle for window dominance had completely and utterly consumed Castiel's thoughts, and he had even forgotten about the interview. All he cared about was beating whoever the hell was sitting behind him and keeping that window shut. Hell, he didn't even care about his hair anymore. This was more than that now. So much more.  
With a finality that quite literally shook the ground upon which Castiel was planted, the bus screeched to a halt, and the jarring motion brought Castiel out of his window-centric trance and back into his anxiety and frustration-filled reality.  
He couldn't help it--he had to confront the Hand. Well, the Man behind the Hand. Whatever.  
So, he whirled around in his seat and immediately caught his tormenter's eyes. What surprised him, other than the extreme (very extreme) attractiveness of the man, was that his own annoyance was mirrored in the man's face. This was puzzling, because Castiel had kind of been working under the impression that the man didn't actually give two shits about whether or not the window was open or closed but was just relishing the torture that he had been putting Castiel through.  
He didn't get a chance to voice his confusion, because the man spoke first. "Dude, what the hell was that?!"  
"I could ask you the same thing!" he crossed his arms across his chest and scowled at the man.  
"Why the hell did you keep closing the window? I mean, what the hell even is your problem??"  
"Why did YOU keep opening it?! I needed that damn window closed, but nooooo, you just had to torment me this entire stupid bus ride by opening it, just to annoy me!" Castiel gathered by the man's incredulous look that maybe, just maybe, the man hadn't actually been doing that because of a personal pranking vendetta.  
His suspicions were confirmed when the man yelled back, "You moron, I couldn't give a shit about you and your hate for open windows--I need the window open in a moving vehicle or I WILL throw up all over the damn place, and my window isn't broken, so maybe get your head out of your ass for a second??"  
Castiel bristled. Okay, so yes, the man had had valid reasons for wanting the window open, but so had Castiel for wanting it closed! Very valid! "A little vomit is okay with me if it means I look okay for the most important job interview ever! Yes, you're not the only person in the world with problems! I need to go right now, or I'm going to end up working in fast food till I die, so excuse me if I don't feel pity for the man whose nausea may have just lost me the job opportunity of a lifetime!” Cas was gripped with sudden weariness and despair, and his legs gave out from beneath him, causing him to drop painfully back into his seat.  
A moment of terse silence later, the man situated himself suddenly and forcibly in front of Castiel's face and fixed him with the look of a confused cat that just watch the red dot disappear and is wondering where the hell its prey went. Castiel just sighed and looked away, but his eyes were brought back when the man spoke again, quietly this time.  
"Wait, so you're angry because you're afraid a little messy hair is going to ruin your interview chances?"  
"Uh, duh. I need to look professional and my best, so yeah." Castiel rolled his eyes.  
"Wow, you're a complete idiot..." Castiel glared daggers at the man, his seemingly innocent insult not slightly helping his hideous mood.  
"Thanks, asshole."  
"No, I mean, you're the most handsome man I've seen in my entire life other than whenever I look in the mirror. And dude, I saw your 'professional' hair when I got onto the bus; believe me when I say it looks better a little messy."  
Castiel let his confusion show on his face. "Just a second ago you were furious at me; now you're flirting with me? Why does it feel like a complete stranger carefully planned the perfect way to ruin my day...?"  
"Oh, sorry if that was coming on too strong; I get it if you're not into guys. Mostly I just think it's incredibly stupid that you're going to let something like this 'ruin your life,' or whatever you said. You look great, and I'm sorry I 'messed up' your hair, even though it definitely makes you look hotter this way. So yeah, don't let your career be flushed by this, man. Go own that interview. If you don't, I'll throw up on you."  
Something about the sudden sincerity of the man immediately cheered Castiel up. His smile was like the first rays of sun in the morning, warming the day and coloring the once-dark earth.  
It took very little deliberation for Castiel to resolve to follow the man's advice and go to his interview. His words had breathed life back into Castiel's weary soul. He grabbed his suitcase and was about to run out of the bus when he stopped dead in his tracks at the man's voice calling out to him again.  
"Wait! I didn't catch your name?"  
"It's Castiel; my name is Castiel."  
"Nice to meet you, Cas. My name's Dean."


End file.
